


The Game's the Thing

by Quoshara



Series: Bits and bits and bits. (Prompt fics in various fandoms) [6]
Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Chess, Plotting, Sneakiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 14:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4880470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quoshara/pseuds/Quoshara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything's a game between Angel and Spike, and really, winning is the only thing that matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game's the Thing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Joe on STPMA](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Joe+on+STPMA).



* * *

_*Tic*_

_*Toc*_

_*Tic*_

_*Toc*_

The sound of the clock was beginning to be annoying. If it hadn't been for the thick pile of the carpeting covering the floor of the overly elaborate room, Spike was sure the sound would echo. The silence of the room was like the dullest tomb.

 _And I should know tombs, I lived in one for long enough._ Spike huffed to himself.

_*Tic*_

_*Toc*_

_*Tic*_

"Look, Peaches, either make your move or surrender. I promise I won't crow too loudly." 

"I still have time, Spike," Angel pointed out. "I'm going to be certain of my move before I make it. That's why I always beat you – no patience."

"I've got lots of—Okay, no I don't. Not a bit of patience. But some of us prefer being spontaneous to being a dull plonker." Spike leaned back in his chair, shifting to dandle one leg over its arm. 

_*Tic*_

_*Toc*_

_Hmmm…the Docs are getting a bit dull looking. Might need a bit of a polish._ And wasn't it just proof of his growing boredom that he was considering the menial task of polishing his boots as some kind of escape from the enduring torture?

Angel reached one hand out toward the board, then drew it back, hesitating. 

"Oh, bloody Hell, just move the damn thing. At this rate it won't matter who wins because everyone who cares will be deader than you!" Spike let out a huff of breath.

"All in good time."

_*Toc*_

_*Tic*_

Finally, Angel reached out to move his bishop three squares from its original position.

"Ah…" Spike leaned forward, rubbing his hands together. "I've got you now. Two more moves and you've had it."

Angel scowled, looking over the board. 

"See?" Spike cackled.

"I see what you think is there," Angel waved a negligent hand at the board. "The thing is, Spike, you and I both know that this isn't about winning a game of chess."

"What?" Spike did a double-take, looking back up at Angel.

Angel stood up, moving to the sideboard to pour himself a drink. "Well, maybe I misspoke. It is about a game…but not chess."

"And what game is that?" Spike frowned as he watched Angle take a long slow sip of his whiskey. The mood in the room had suddenly grown darker, moving towards oppressive. It made him feel twitchy.

_*Tic*_

_*Toc*_

_*Ti---*_

"It's the same game it's always been, Spike." Angel moved slowly across the room, circling behind Spike, his voice low and even. "It's all about dominance…and who has it."

Spike shivered. He remembered that tone of voice all too well – Angelus's voice. The sound had always hit him - hard. 

_The giver of pain and delight…_

No. This had to be a trick. If Angel's soul had taken a little vacation, surely one of them would have noticed before now.

"Dominance is it?" Spike turned to watch Angel closely. If it was Angelus, he wasn't stupid enough to show him his back.

"It always has been." And there was the eerie chuckle that Spike had known both to love and fear. Love, when it was turned towards their prey, and fear, when it was, all too often, turned toward himself.

"Well, I don't play that game anymore....and I thought you'd given it up as well."

Angel (Angelus?) stepped forward, leaning toward Spike, his face barely a breath away. "Is that something you ever truly give up? I've seen you stalking through the halls; you don't even have to say a word and people dodge out of your way. That feeling of power is not something you give up easily."

Their eyes were locked together, tied in understanding. 

_*Tic*_

_*Toc*_

"But…if you'd rather just play chess…" Angel straightened up and moved back to his seat. 

It was as if air had suddenly been let back into the room.

Spike blinked, adjusted himself, cracked his neck and looked back at the board.

"Wait? What?" That wasn't how the board had looked a few moments before, was it? 

It had been done very well, not a piece out of line…but now HE was the one two steps from checkmate.

Angel's lip twitched. "You have to play the long game, Spike. Take your advantages where you can."

"You bastard."

That was it, wasn't it? Whether Angel or Angelus, the man would always know him well enough to hold the advantage over him. Spike might win little victories, but when it came to true dominance, Angel would always win, because his Sire was his Sire…as it should be.

And, although he'd never admit it out loud, Spike was pretty much okay with that.

 

~~~~~fin~~~~~

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a 'flash-fic' for one of my friends at [S.T.P.M.A.](http://stpma.net) and not betaed at all. Sorry. *s*
> 
> The prompt was "Spike and Angel settling things over a chess board." It's a bit sketchy, but hopes to grow up to be a real fic someday.


End file.
